


brock rumlow's suprising trip to the future

by desperat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Breathplay, Captivity, Dark Steve Rogers, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperat/pseuds/desperat
Summary: Don’t get him wrong, Brock was completely loyal to HYDRA. That gig paid great, and he thoroughly enjoyed his job.Well, until now. Now, he was starting to feel some regrets.He would very much like to voice these sentiments, but fucking muzzle made it impossible to make any kind of sound.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	brock rumlow's suprising trip to the future

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914104) by [voxofthevoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxofthevoid/pseuds/voxofthevoid). 



> this is trash, and I enjoyed writing like half of it and then I started feel sorry for Brock so there's no spark in the porn half of it. hope you still will enjoy it!
> 
> i was vaguely inspired by darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in) which is way better and you should go read that. 
> 
> i have no idea what's timeline like here, but Steve has a beard and sadist streak.
> 
> i tried to sum up what's potentially triggering in the end notes.
> 
> also, if some sentences have super weird construction that's because I learned english grammar on twitter.

When Brock Rumlow was informed that his next mission was in the damn future, he grew sure that Alexander Pierce lost his fucking mind completely, that old fucker. He was entirely too invested into all that ‘making world a better place’ or whatever bullshit of propaganda you'd push on interns these days. Don’t get him wrong, Brock was completely loyal to HYDRA. That gig paid great, and he thoroughly enjoyed his job.

Well, until now. Now, he was starting to feel some regrets.

He would very much like to voice these sentiments, but fucking muzzle made it impossible to make any kind of sound. He knew that. He was very impressed with how well it worked every time he tazed the Asset. So he just squirmed in the restrains, broken arm starting to seriously bother him, tied way to tight behind his back. He quickly regretted that, as vaguely familiar man in a stupid goggles delivered blindingly painful kick with a metal tip of a combat shoe into his stomach.

Brock retched.

The Asset just stood there uselessly and watched him curiously. What was wrong with its fucking protocols? Rumlow knew for a fact, that it was supposed to protect the handler no matter what. Did Alexander fucking Pierce fucked up his toy completely and send Brock with it for their demise? Or did those fuckers that captured them as soon as they arrived into the fucking future managed to reprogram it when he was unconscious?

He was paid pretty great, but still not enough for this fuckery.

Rumlow stared at the Asset, baring his teeth.

‘I would look at him if I were you’ said his captor. That was first fucking thing that anybody said to him here, and of-fucking-course it was about the Asset. Way too many people was obsessed with it, was Brock opinion. Of course, nobody asked him. ‘You really don’t need to give Steve any more reasons to be pissed with you’ continued man.

Brock looked at him incredulously.

‘Steve?’ he would said, if he would be gagged. ‘As in Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve?’

His captor must have seen the recognition in his eyes, because the smirked. And then kicked him again.

When Brock wake up, he was in the same damn basement, he was before. This time it was empty, his captor and Soldier gone. The muzzle was also gone, and his restrains was different. His hands was free, for once, but there was something uncomfortably tight against his neck. Room also felt way colder, but that was probably because of not very extensive, but very persistent bleeding. He cursed silently, going through his (very limited) options.

For once, there wasn’t much of a chance for a extraction team from his times. Definitely not for him, but maybe Pierce is willing to risk one for the Asset. If Brock want to hitch a ride, he better be whenever Winter Soldier is at that time. But that’s not very probable option. Brock would hope that the Asset will do what he’s trained for, kill Captain America and go back for him, but Brock is not a stupid man.

Well, fuck, it seems that he’s on his own, and getting weaker with every moment. That’s not great.

Brock sit, and took a good look at himself. His STRIKE gear was in pieces, not even the smallest knife left, not even his fucking shoes. Even his undershirt was cut, like they were looking for a wire. There was a chain going from the concrete floor to… He paved at his throat with a good arm. Oh yeah, that was definitively a metal collar.

The (barely) good news was that even if the broken arm hurt like bitch, he had some mobility in it.

The (very) bad news was: future fucking Rogers, that nosy, persistent motherfucker, get his hands on the Winter Soldiers files HYDRA was keeping, because something about this predicament started to feel erringly familiar, only last time, it wasn’t him on this side on the chain. He would come in, through the door, in great mood, joking with Rollins, caring stun baton, adrenaline from the mission still coursing through his veins.

It’s not that until then Brock was very happy, but only now he felt very real panic spiking in him.

When doors opened, it didn’t really startled him. Brock was sitting leaning heavily on the wall, as far from entrance as the chain would allow. What really surprised him, was the person who went through that door.

It was still very obviously Steve Rogers, but he didn’t look much like that version of him that Brock knew. That get him seriously wondering, how this whole future thing looks like. Also, the man didn’t look at all as angry as he imagined. Fucker was fucking smirking. He was also somehow even bigger that the Rogers he know, bearded, dressed in what looked more like his own STRIKE gear than Captain America stupid costume. He’s also got a fucking stun baton.

Brock would be excited, if he wasn’t so damn cold.

‘Rumlow’ said Rogers, nodding, like it was good old times.

‘Rogers’ responded Brock, head lolling to the said.

‘Long time no see. Well, at least for me.’

Brock didn’t fucking remembered Rogers being so stupidly smug. His smile was growing under that ridiculous beard as he come closer to man sitting on the floor, but far enough to stay outside of his kicking range.

His silence didn’t affect Rogers good mood, apparently, because he kept talking. ‘You know, I couldn’t believe that it was really you. I don’t know how did you put your hands on that technology, but you made a big mess using it, we could detect you days ago. We can do that now.’

‘You must be very proud of yourself’ grunted Brock. ‘The fuck you want from me.’

Rogers didn’t respond right away. Just kept smiling, kept looking. He actually managed to looked fucking friendly, in this of all situations. Like he was about to give a speech on how bulling was bad and then politely decline offer of post-mission drinks. But then there was his eyes. In Brock’s time, there was only resignation in them. This man had eyes of a fucking sadist.

‘I’m no longer Captain America, you know’ he said, in conversational tone. ‘I don’t have to care very much about being all proper and moral. And I’m very happy about it, because see, in my timeline, I didn’t get to kill you’ continued Rogers, sounding almost chipper. ‘Now, we get to change that.’

Now, Brock would never argue, that he wasn’t seriously fucked up, in the matter of things that get him going. Adrenaline was always one of these things. It was, very often, source of frustration that he ended up taking out on the Asset. But he always was more on the sadistic side and would never imagined that he could get hard just from one look from Captain America, while laying at his feet, bleeding and chained up.

Well apparently, he could.

And Steve Rogers was perfectly aware of that, if his blinding smile could be anything to judge from. Brock’s face felt hot, humiliation so intense, he was burning with it. His fucking traitorous cock didn’t care about that, though. If his gear was still intact, nobody could tell, but they messed it up, and there he was, chained to the floor, breathing heavy, like a panting, pathetic bitch.

Brock’s heart was now jackrabbiting in his chest, his breathing sped up, his body hurting. He couldn’t stop his mind from suppling images of what could happen. His ears was ringing, panic rising, as Rogers take a step forward, smile falling from his face, tapping his own calf with a stun baton.

Suddenly serious, Steve said ‘You know, Brock, I didn’t think I’m gonna enjoy this. I always knew you will.’

And fuck, that was humiliating, but also almost made Brock come, because there’s Captain America standing over him and he looks like his planning on fucking Brock to death, and isn’t it way to go?

‘Why, Cap’ Brock grumbled. ‘I didn’t know you had it in you.’

The dangerous smirk was back, transforming Rogers’ face into something terrifying.

‘Yeah’ he said. Real quiet, enough that Brock suspected, he wasn’t meant to hear it. ‘I didn’t thought so either.’

And with that, Rogers closed the rest of the space between them in few strides and grabbed fistful of Brock’s hair, using them to make him kneel, then rested stun baton against his stomach without turning it on. The quiet threat of that sending enough pain through his body, that his erection even flagged a little. Brock let out a small sound of pain, attempting on saying something, teasing Rogers, provoking him, but he was to slow. Hand in his hair tightened even more, making him straight up his back, while other man fucking kicked his legs apart.

Rogers was standing very close know, so he took his shot. Took a swing at his balls, but he was too slow, and next thing he knew, he was laying on the floor, body still trembling after three consecutive shocks from stun baton.

‘I know everything you did to him, you know’ said Rogers, motherfucker’s voice still perfectly cool. Like he wasn’t just torturing something. ‘Everything.’ He decided to accentuate that one with kick to the ribs. ‘I watched that tapes hundreds of times, I read your files on him. I know shit that never made it into the files. Considering all that, I’m going easy on you, don’t you think?’

Brock coughed and spitted blood, using his good hand to lift himself from the ground. ‘Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Cap’ he gritted out.

Which was, pretty obviously, wrong thing to say. This time Rogers used his broken arm to lift him to his knees, this time putting his face in the wall, knocking his breath out of his lungs, making him inhale sharply in pain, almost bringing him to tears. At this point Brock was getting light headed, arousal not completely gone, but more of a background sensation. His good hand was brought behind his back, some magnetic cuffs put on both of his wrist, immobilizing him once again. Then Rogers hauled him to his feet, pressing him to the wall with his body.

‘You enjoyed muzzle that much?’ asked Rogers, still sounding like they were having civilized conversation. Brock could only pant in the answer, which made that smug motherfucker smirk again and shove a gigantic thigh between his legs. ‘Tell you what, Rumlow. You get yourself off like that, and I won’t bash your face into this wall until your brain spills out, deal?’

Fuck.

So the thing is. Brock know that tactic perfectly well, he used it himself, in the basement like this, when they broke Asset’s right arm, tazed it, kicked it and chained it to the floor. He seen it coming, hell, he’s still hard under Captain America’s body. But panic rising in him is irrational, and he barely stops himself from begging, from saying he can’t fucking do it, he’s in pain, he’s bleeding out.

So he says ‘Sure thing, Cap’ and if his voice if unsteady, who cares. It’s gonna get worse.

It does. It does get worse, but it also gets better, because when Rogers press his leg harder Brock feels spike of authentic pleasure. His body is shaking, weakened and his brain is confused with abundance of sensations. Brock moans, and it’s small and fill with pain, but moan nevertheless.

‘So you do like this?’ Roger fucking murmurs into his eyes. ‘Bet you get off every time somebody kicks your ass. Bet you loved when I did it.’

Brock is humping his leg in his earnest now, humiliation actually making it easier, but it’s still fucking uncomfortable and painful and his so light headed right now is getting hard to stay aroused because he keeps feeling like his gonna float away. At this point Rogers must enjoy this too, because he’s still talking, now whole body pressing into Brock. He is so fucking bad at this, making it easier for the prisoner is the last thing he should be doing right now.

Brock says that out loud. That gains him warm chuckle in the ear end big hand sneaking to his throat.

‘Sadly, you’re less entertaining that I expected’ says Rogers, as he squeezes.

Brock comes just second before he losses consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so there is what's going on in this story:
> 
> Pierce sends Brock in the future, where he's captured but Steve, who tortures him in the way that Bucky was tortured as the Asset, and makes him get himself off. at the end Brock may or may not be dead.


End file.
